As a rule, Courtlaw told her softly, he talked right and left, and to everybody throughout the whole of the meal—tonight he was almost silent, and seemed to devote his whole attention to staring at Anna. They were talking of “Alcide,” as they often did in those days. “You are not boring me,” she said, “but I would rather talk of something else. I suspect he has a bit of vanity. At the door through which she had entered the room stood the so-called Monsieur Valade. “What ought you to do?” “I’ve hunted up all sorts of things. Not far from him was a knot of lads drinking, swearing, and playing at dice as eagerly and as skilfully as any of the older hands.
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